Sore Loser
by afullmargin
Summary: Explicit. M/M. Offering to be Jack's bitch for twenty-four hours may have been a bad idea… or possibly the best idea of his life. Seth's not entirely sure.


**Rating**: Explicit

**Notes**: This keeps in tone with the show… as such, expect some horribleness and generally non-PC attitude. Also contains rough sex and mention of past drug-fueled Steven/Jack & Steven/Seth that rides close to dub-con.

**Prompt**: For small fandom fest, Seth lost a bet and has to pay up but he really didn't expect to end up in this position.

**Warnings**: Rough Sex, smoking, mild consent issues

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly repost or redistribute without letting me know first. Transformative or derivative works welcome, but drop me a note about it!

* * *

"Come on, one more chance…" Seth whined, lingering in the apartment above Nolita well after Teddy, Steven and Jim had poured themselves into a cab in search of the cheapest route home after Jack cleaned them all out in several hands of poker. "You and me, head to head."

Looking up from where he was collecting beer cans and emptying ashtrays, Jack let out a half-laugh. "One, you're drunk. Two, you're broke – you ran out of chips an hour ago. Game over, man. Either go home or make friends with the couch."

He was definitely too drunk to make it home, and likely too drunk to still be making bets, but Seth continued undaunted; "I'm being serious here. Give me a chance to win back some of that money, please?"

Jack frowned, shaking his head; "And what's in it for me?"

"Anything!" Seth shot back, eyes wide and begging as he leaned across the card table. "Twenty-four hours, I'll be your bitch. You want cupcakes? I'll make 'em. Clean your apartment? Done. Just give me a fighting chance here!"

Jack Bourdain wasn't exactly known for being a softy, but the hint of desperation in Seth's drunken voice was enough to give convince him. "All right, why not?" Jack took the dealer's seat and tossed five hundred in chips at him. "Five hundred bucks against twenty-four hours of your personal service. Winner takes all."

"Now we're talking!" Seth grinned wide, popping open a fresh beer.

Predictably, after several hands Seth's stack of chips and dignity were fully depleted. "Now that's how you play poker," Jack grinned, standing up and handing over the garbage bag he'd been filling before. "I think you know where to start."

"Oh, come on!" Seth groaned; "You know you can't take my bets seriously when I've been drinking!"

"Funny how you only say that when you lose your ass…" Jack stripped off his shirt, thoroughly enjoying his victory. "I've got to take in a delivery in five hours, so keep it quiet while you take care of this mess."

Speechless, Seth stared as his boss and friend stalked to the bedroom, clutching the plastic bag in his hands. "I hate you…" he whispered when he was sure he wouldn't be heard; "stupid perfect Jack…"

Jack wasn't shocked to find Seth crashed on his couch when he got out of the shower, toweling himself off on the way to the coffee pot. He was, however, a little shocked to find it already set with a fresh pack of cigarettes and a small pan of cinnamon buns wrapped in plastic beside it. His apartment really hadn't been bad, even after the late night game, but as the caffeine and nicotine kicked in halfway into a pair of jeans and t-shirt, he realized it hadn't just been picked up. It was cleaned, top to bottom… hours of work. "Jesus…" he muttered under his breath, looking to the sofa where the pastry chef was sprawled across the cushions. "Good bitch."

When he came back upstairs to catch a nap before opening the kitchen, he half expected Seth to have taken off, but he was still snoring on the sofa – one leg draped over the edge and his undershirt tugged up high enough to show his soft belly and a hint of dark chest hair. He hadn't expected Seth to take the bet so seriously, and maybe he'd just gone out of his way the night before to make sure Jack wasn't particularly cruel to him the next day – but it wasn't like he was nearly as bad as Steven could be. Really, if he had to owe a debt to someone the only person who'd go easier on him at that table was Jim… and that's only if you count going to bible study as anything but torture.

Work like that deserved a little bit of a reward… and he wasn't exactly one to not get what he wanted.

"Rise and shine, cream puff…" Jack murmured, shifting his weight onto one knee at the end of the couch between Seth's legs. "At least rise…"

Seth smiled in his sleep, blissfully unaware as Jack's skilled hands stroked over his hips and then drew down his underwear. Whatever he was dreaming of, he was at least halfway to the rising part of the morning.

"Hell-o…" Jack whispered, and laughed under his breath before stroking his fingertips over the partially hard member without hesitation. It'd been a while since they'd fooled around – since before rehab... back when sobriety was a quickly mollified inconvenience. Still, it wasn't new territory and he was pretty sure he could remember the steps. Closing his fingers around the base, he teased him up hard with gentle strokes – mirroring the other man's wide grin with the minor accomplishment of getting him hard without waking him up.

Not that it lasted long. "Yeah…" Seth moaned, rocking his hips against Jack's fist until he pushed the free hand against his hip, holding him down. "God…" his eyelids fluttered and when he opened his eyes it wasn't long blonde hair and perfect angel lips he saw but the piercing blue eyes he knew all too well. "Oh God… Jack… I… uh… I can explain…"

"I'm jerking you off. It's an easy explanation." Jack dead-panned, smirking at the dark flush across Seth's cheeks when he didn't pull away.

"Oh God…" He fussed, biting his lower lip – clearly torn between arousal and humiliation.

"Relax…" Jack squeezed tighter, rolling his thumb around the head.

"Yeah… this is wrong…" he whimpered, curling his toes as Jack drew up a fine bead of wetness and then stroked it across the velvety tip. "You… are… uh… my boss and we're… uh… not… not… gay…"

"You're my bitch." He replied simply, the grip on Seth's hip tightening until he could feel the muscle tense under his fingers. "I can use you if I want to."

Seth whimpered again, low and loud before managing in a small voice; "Yeah, but we really shouldn't…"

"It's not exactly the first time."

"Okay… okay, so maybe when I'm under the influence… I can get a little…"

"Slutty?" Jack chuckled, licking his lips before leaning in to roll his tongue over the tip – suckling it with his wet mouth.

"Oh God…" he moaned again, lust overpowering uncertainty for a brief moment. Recovering just a little when the warmth of Jack's mouth was again replaced with hard strokes of his worn hands, Seth said; "I'm… I'm sober and you're really… really…"

"Horny?"

"Sober."

Jack shook his head and licked him again, this time following his strong hand from base to tip before taking him deep into his throat – not entirely shocked to find it just as easy as it was when he was rolling on something a whole lot stronger than fresh cinnamon buns. When he pulled up with a wet pop, his smirk even broader than before, he remarked; "You made me cinnamon buns… I forgot just how sweet your buns can be."

Torn out of his defensive arousal, Seth snorted – barely fighting off a laugh when he replied; "You're kidding, right? That's your big move? Self-anointed sex God Jack Bourdain making a sticky buns joke to a baker?"

"No, my big move was sucking your dick and then telling you to get your ass in the bedroom to work off your debt – but you've gotta admit that was classy."

"Classy." Seth raised an eyebrow; all hint of actually fighting what was happening gone in the absurdity of the moment. "I've seen porno with better moves."

"Yeah, but you've seen like… a lot of porn."

Considering it for a moment, Seth tilted his head to the side – conceding the point. "Fair enough. Your bedroom? Door closed?"

"I'll bring the sticky, you bring the buns?"

Seth raised an eyebrow, sliding out from underneath him. "Don't press your luck, Jack."

It was hard to take a threat seriously from a man stumbling over the underwear around his ankles. So, Jack only shook his head and waved a dismissive hand – following shortly behind him as he stripped off his t-shirt and jeans, leaving a trail to the door. "On your knees…" He murmured, eyes adjusting to the early morning light spilling through the half-closed blinds to cast a shadowy light across the room.

"Just… be gentle, okay? You need me to be able to work today." Seth frowned, not entirely sold on the situation – but not exactly stopping it either.

"I'm always gentle…" Jack replied, retrieving a tube of KY usually reserved for when he was alone before climbing behind him on the bed. "You were just too drunk to appreciate it."

"Yeah, I was sober the next morning when I had to limp my way through the first two hours of the dinner shift and explain why there were bruises on my wrists." Seth turned to watch him, smiling somewhat nervously when Jack's large hands squeezed his ass gently – almost tender.

"You're thinking of Steven…" Jack snorted, biting down into his lower lip as he ran the edge of his thumb up the crack of his soft ass, squeezing the thick flesh a little harder. "The guy's an animal when he's high."

Seth let out a shallow sigh, lowering his face against the pillows when Jack spread him open –stroking strong fingers up and down the crease. "Wait… I fucked Steven? I don't remember fucking Steven…"

"Let me guess, bite marks on your ass? Bruised wrists? Felt like you got the shit kicked out of you?" Jack shook his head again, remembering his own encounters with the sous chef – he really was a bit of an animal, but then again they all were back then.

"Holy shit I fucked Steven…" Seth's upset was broken with a deep intake of breath when Jack spread the cool lube against his asshole, easily working his middle finger inside him. "Oh God…"

"He fucked you." Jack corrected, stroking deep and hard until he felt Seth relax enough to add a second finger. "But it's cool; man… we've all been there. He messed me up so bad I couldn't think straight for like two days." Of course, that could have been the rails talking – he'd had quite a few that night.

Swallowing hard, feeling the heat building with Jack's steady hand working him wider, Seth managed to groan; "Y… you too?"

"Shh…" Jack hissed, withdrawing his fingers to stroke the tip of his cock against the slippery opening, leaning his weight on top of him as he pushed in slow and easy. "Just a little fucking around between friends, no big deal. Everyone does it." He's not even sure if he's lying or not, just that it feels amazing to be inside him when he's sober, to feel every tense squeeze around his cock and Seth's smooth back pushed up against him. Men were just different; not better or worse, something that worked when it came down to it. And worked pretty damn well.

"Christ…" Seth whimpered, following it with a shuddering groan when Jack hilted inside him and then began to rock his hips in short, gentle thrusts. "That's good…"

"Awesome…" Jack groaned louder, each stroke a little longer than the last. "God you're tight…"

Clearly taking it as a rare compliment, Seth pushed back eagerly into his pelvis – grinding down on him enthusiastically. "Uh-huh?"

"Yeah…" His voice dropped to a mellow growl and his mouth found the curve of Seth's shoulder, kissing the smooth skin.

"H… how tight?" He asked, panting into the pillow.

Of course he had to push for more, always drinking up compliments like free booze. Still, Jack eagerly moaned into his ear; "Tightest, baby… perfect."

"Perfect…" Seth echoed in a throaty moan, squaring up his shoulders and lifting his head as he pushed up against Jack's solid weight on top of him. "Come on…" he hissed; "fuck me, Jack."

Seth always was easy to push – say the right words and he'll play right into anything you want him to, and Jack wasn't exactly the kind of guy not to push those buttons every single time he needed something. It wasn't like he needed sex, like he couldn't get it – it was that sex was complicated. Sex with Becky was complicated, sex with strangers was complicated. Sex with someone you've already fucked is easy. "Beg…" he breathed hard, withdrawing completely to rub only tip of his aching dick over the stretched opening – taunting him with it. "Beg for it, bitch."

"God…" he whimpered in response, muscles tensing underneath Jack's chest and stomach as he barely pushed the tip inside. "Please…" he whined; "please fuck me."

"Again…" Jack rewarded him with a single hard thrust – hilting hard enough to push him forward before pulling out once more; "say my name."

"Jack…" Seth moaned, mouth separating from brain to cope with the stimulation. "Please, Jack." He gasped, being pushed into again. "Please fuck me… Jack… please…"

One palm came down hard on Seth's hip, drawing up a red welt, the loud sound mingling with the slap of skin against skin as he worked himself up faster – driving him down hard into the pillows. Bracing himself, Jack dug his fingers into the hot mark and grasped Seth's hard cock with his free hand. Milking him, he stroked slow and deliberately countering the rough thrusts – driving his thumb against the underside with each hard tug. "You like that, Seth?" He moaned, letting his teeth graze the other man's earlobe. "Like being my bitch?"

His throat closed with an audible whine, his body shaking and already close to the edge when he managed to answer softly; "Yes…"

"I can't hear you…" Jack stopped his strokes, the punishing thrust of his cock not slowing as he gripped tightly around the base. "I asked if you like being my little bitch."

"Oh God… please…" he whimpered, pushing back against him as hard as he could, toes digging at the unmade bed. He felt the rake of Jack's teeth against his throat – his mouth sucking hard at the tender skin, undoubtedly leaving a mark. "I love it…" he forced loudly; fighting another undignified moan unsuccessfully; "God, Jack, I fucking love it…"

With a throaty growl, Jack rutted even harder – feeling the warm sweat between them as he let himself go entirely, returning to the hard strokes of his friend's cock as he claimed him. If cooking cleared his head, sex made it delightfully cloudy – that familiar dimness he missed with sobriety as he was reduced to grunting and moaning until he couldn't hold back any more. "Jesus…" he gasped, forcing himself to pull out as he let go of Seth long enough to hold him open with one shaking hand. The other stroked out his hard orgasm, painting strands of come across Seth's asshole and then against each reddened cheek before slapping his hip again with a triumphant shout. "Yeah!" He growled, rolling onto his back, panting for breath. "Fuck yeah."

Not quite there, Seth's body shook – his cries mewling and meek as he dug his hardness into Jack's sheets – the sticky wetness across his ass further fond humiliation at the hands of the head chef. Of course, he didn't mind… it was hard to mind when your head was swimming and you were coming harder than you can remember in a decade. "Oh god… god… Jack… god…"

Jack laughed, still catching his breath as he fumbled for a cigarette and his lighter off the nightstand. After a heady drag, he coughed hard and said; "Got that right…"

Giggling, his face slipping into a grimace that almost looked like he was about to be sick to his stomach, Seth rolled onto his back – flushed from head to toe and practically glowing. "Got another one of those?"

When he smiled, it was because he knew Seth didn't really smoke – maybe a puff here or there when he was stressed out, and it was nice to know he was on edge enough to need it. "Last one." He passed it over anyway; watching as Seth's tongue was heavy on the filter, leaving it wet when he took a small drag and passed it back. "Gonna be okay there?"

He groaned, laughing under his breath and grinning ear to ear for a long moment. "Uh… yeah…" he half-nodded, hand rubbing idly over his neck where he could still feel the hot mark. "I think you gave me a hickey."

"Well, I had to make sure everyone knows you're my property…" he murmured back, blowing out a thin plume of gray smoke. "Don't worry; your bandana'll cover it."

"I know." He replied quietly, letting a long but oddly comfortable silence pass between them before saying; "You know, I didn't really expect the bet to go this way."

"Yeah… me neither…" Jack shrugged into the pillows, reaching over to pat him on the chest. "What can I say; you made really good cinnamon buns."

"Does that mean I'm off the hook?" he asked hopefully.

Jack laughed, "No way, you still owe me sixteen hours of dutiful service."

"Well, yeah… but we'll be at work for most of it…"

"Exactly." He replied, patting him again – harder than before. "Remember that funny smell in the walk-in? Guess who gets to find it?"

"Aww, man… c'mon! That's Jim work!"

"And then after work instead of going to the bar… we are going to work off the rest of your debt."

Seth swallowed hard, the tone of Jack's voice pretty clear that he didn't mean cleaning his bathroom. "Yes sir."

"Good bitch…" he murmured affectionately, turning to brush a small kiss in his hair before pushing up from the bed. "I've got to get cleaned up and get down there – you take your time, I'll be sure to let everyone know you're otherwise occupied."

"You… you wouldn't, right? I mean… this is our secret, right?"

Jack shrugged and raised a coy eyebrow, fully intending to keep it under wraps but still enjoying the tease far too much to let Seth know that. "Depends on how late you are."


End file.
